


Curfew

by foobar137



Category: Psychonauts
Genre: Developing Relationship, F/M, Father-Daughter Relationship, Future Fic, Teenagers, parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-24
Updated: 2014-03-24
Packaged: 2018-01-16 20:26:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1360651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foobar137/pseuds/foobar137
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Truman Zanotto is waiting up for his seventeen-year-old daughter, back from her date with Raz. Nothing to worry about, of course. Until she gets home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Curfew

Truman Zanotto stared, unseeing, at the book hovering in front of him. His eyes flicked around the small living room of his quarters at Psychonauts HQ, trying not to look at the clock.

He looked at the clock, which read 23:56. He snorted, and looked around the room again. He could have had larger quarters; as head of the Psychonauts, he could have had the largest quarters in the complex. But, really, he and his daughter didn’t need more than this. A sofa, a television, a chair, bookshelves full of books...maybe if his wife were still around, they’d need more space, but this was fine for just the two of them. Just standard two-bedroom quarters, for when he was at HQ. Which was most of the time, these days, now that Lili and Raz were full-time agents. He probably should decorate the place a little more, since it clearly wasn't really temporary any longer.

He glanced at the clock, which still read 23:56. _Three minutes_ , he thought. He tried looking at his book again, but he still was unable to care about it. His daughter was supposed to be home, or at least let him know when she’d be home, before midnight. That usually meant she walked in at one minute before.

A quick glance showed that the clock now read 23:57.

The door from the outside corridor slid open suddenly, startling him, and the book dropped into his lap as his concentration slipped. His seventeen-year-old daughter Lili walked in, a younger image of her mother, tall and lean, and he quickly quashed the pain of that comparison before she could pick up on it. She normally wore her long red hair in a tight braid on missions, but now it was just held back in a loose ponytail. "You still didn't have to wait up, Dad," she said with a scowl as the door slid closed behind her.

"You're early," he said. "I didn't expect you for another two minutes."

Lili rolled her eyes. "Ha ha, Dad," she said mirthlessly.

He could feel the emotions rolling off of her. She'd been out with Raz as usual, so her love for him was foremost, layered with concern for his recovery after their last mission, annoyance at her father for being overprotective, and an odd smug satisfaction that he’d swear was directed at him. “Raz is recuperating well?”

“Yeah, he thinks he’s ready for active duty. Medical says next week.”

“What do you think?”

The smugness intensified. “I’d say he's in pretty good shape.”

He frowned, trying to pinpoint the reason she’d feel so self-satisfied. "Okay, what did you prove me wrong about?"

"What?"

"You're feeling smug in my direction, so you proved me wrong about something. What is it?"

She suddenly clamped down on her mental shields, trying to keep anything from leaking. She was one of the best at shielding, and her emotional state suddenly became a blank wall. "Nothing," she said quickly, blushing.

_Well, that's interesting. Usually she'd be crowing about whatever it is._

_What could she prove herself right about, and not want me to know?_

_Oh._

"I...see," he said, as she raised an eyebrow at him. "I asked you not to rush into that," he said quietly, trying to keep his anger in check.

"I know," she said coldly. "We've been dating for seven years, it's hardly rushing."

"I'm just worried about you. Both of you. You know I love Raz as if he were my own son. Fifty percent..."

"Fifty percent of relationships between strong psychics don't survive their first sexual encounter," she interrupted, imitating his voice. "Mental shields can't hold up to the prolonged physical content, strong emotions, and physical sensations. I know, you told me enough times. And you don't have to worry about that any more, because we did _just fine_." She turned toward the hallway, stomping toward her room.

“I’m not done with you, young lady,” he said, letting the book fall from his lap as he stood to follow her. “Do you understand the risks you were exposing yourself to? I could have lost two of my top agents...”

She whirled on him, staring daggers. “I’m so _sorry_ that you might have lost some _agents_ , _Chief_.”

“I’m...” He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. “I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant. I worry about you. After what happened to your mother, do you understand how hard it is for me to let you go out on a mission? I have to keep thinking of you as agents because if I think about what I’m exposing my daughter and her boyfriend to, I'd break down. And now this...it’s not just the emotional risks. It’s not just what you might find inside each other’s shields. Sometimes, somebody’s reflexes trigger and lash out mentally. With no shields between you...you can imagine the damage.”

She winced. “How bad?”

“The worst was one that, we think, caused a reflexive counter-attack. Agents Spencer and Parr. They shredded each other’s minds. They’re both in the psych ward for life, because they make Agent Cruller look stable and sane.”

“You never said.”

“I didn’t think you’d believe me. You’d think I was just trying to scare you.” He glared at her, a thin smile on his lips. “You’d try to prove me wrong. But now that you’ve been inside his shields like that...you can understand how it’d happen.”

He could feel the anger slipping away from her as her shields relaxed, replaced with concern and...ah, there was the smugness coming back.

"You used protection?" he asked softly. "Whether you were ready for what you’ve done or not, you’re definitely not ready to have a kid yet.”

“I do fine babysitting Trisha,” she said defensively.

“And at the end of the evening, you hand her back to Sasha and Milla and come home. That’s very different from full-time parenting. You still haven’t answered my question.”

"I talked to Medical a few months ago. Yes, it’s taken care of," she mumbled.

"You love him." It was a statement, not a question. Her shields had loosened more, and her feelings toward the boy were almost palpable.

A soft smile spread across her face. "I do."

"I suppose that if I can trust the two of you with the fate of the world as agents, I should trust the two of you with each other in a relationship. So I won't pry. But...it went well?"

She hugged her arms to herself, blushing again. "Very well."

"And you still love him."

"Even more," she said.

"Then..." He took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I was so worried about what could go wrong I forgot that things might go right. I told you that fifty percent of relationships fail there; did I ever tell you what happens to the other fifty percent?"

She shook her head.

"They're a part of each other forever," he said softly. "Just like how your mother will always be a part of me."

Her eyes got wide, and she nodded.

He reached over and gave his daughter a hug. "I'm happy for you two. I will remind you that you don’t need to be _home_ by midnight, you just need to let me know when you’ll get here. I think ‘tomorrow morning’ is an acceptable answer, if you’re somewhere safe for the night."

She laughed into his chest and hugged him back. "Like Raz’s quarters?” she asked, looking up and raising an eyebrow.

He sighed deeply. “That was what I was thinking, yes.”

“Thanks, Dad. Let me go grab some stuff, and I think I might head back out for tonight."


End file.
